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140 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 2, 2017


I looked at my wife. The woman I had been with since I was fourteen.
The mother of the precious bundle in pink in the next room over.
I started to think outside of our relationship, though, and the day I found myself in a hotel room with a woman that wasn’t my wife…
“I want a divorce.”
Five years ago, Jordan dropped a bombshell on me, asking for a divorce. He and I had been together for just about ten years. Married for three. Parents for one month.
Jordan, who decided he wanted more experience than the only girl he’d been with. Jordan, who admitted to nearly cheating on me.
Marlo didn’t deserve my wandering eyes. She didn’t deserve a man who would possibly cheat on her—a reality that first hit me at Caleb’s wedding, when I found myself in a hotel room with Sydney’s maid of honor, Anna.
I left her because I found myself in the arms of another woman. I left her because that curious mistake had me wondering what life would be like with more than one woman for sexual experience. The first few times with other women had been exciting—sex was exciting again. It wasn’t the strained emotion of just doing it that Marlo and I found ourselves in.
I spent five years chasing a different dream. A dream that didn’t include Marlo.
The Enforcers were his family. Not mine. Once again, I was the outsider.
I stopped searching the tabloids three years ago, after seeing a picture of him with a super model—and while he was free to do what he wanted… I wasn’t ready to see it.
I left. I left because I saw a pretty bridesmaid at my captain’s wedding. I left because I started to wonder what I was missing out on, by only being with one woman. Nothing. I’d been missing out on nothing. Not a road to go down, Byrd. I understood that Marlo wanted to keep me at arm’s length after the divorce, and I got that she couldn’t just pick up and leave for a few months out of the year so she could bring Rori to me.
Rori had been admitted for RSV—a potentially serious respiratory virus—shortly after he and I divorced but he couldn’t make the time to fly back. My calls went unanswered, the voicemails not returned.
Then when she broke her arm last year, I called and left another message. She received a teddy bear a month later.
Partying. Fucking. Nothing had meaning. I just became the team’s latest playboy, something that didn’t fare well for me amid the news that I had a daughter I allegedly refused to see.
He’s had extra practice. I swallowed hard at the reminder. He was still my only.
You didn’t leave someone you still loved. You didn’t consider cheating on someone you loved. That wasn’t love.
He blamed me. He literally blamed me. In his eyes, the demise of our marriage was my fault. Somehow, I found whatever strength I still had. “Out. Get out of my house.”
